Old and Lonely
by daydreamer-022
Summary: Mia has a panic attack about dying alone, can someone help her out? Set before Kenny.
1. Chapter 1

TOTALLY KIDDING about the C&J based summary btw. I just wanted to see which of my regulars would still want to read a C&J story if I wrote one. Not that I would ever succumb to that.

And for those of you who clicked on the story WANTING to read about Clarrise and Joe, maybe you should broaden your horizens and read some REAL PD fanfic. Schwartzibrow's new ones are both quite good if you're after a suggestion.

So this story is really a two parter M&M (Thank God). It explores Mia's fears of never being able to find a date, let alone a husband. If you're reading this after I've changed the summary back to what it should be, then you're probably confused. So just read the story. And review at the bottom.

* * *

Urgh, another gruelling hour of Algebra with my mothers husband teaching. I HATE Algebra. I don't even understand why we need to learn this stuff. When am I EVER going to need this in the real world? I mean, when I'm sitting on the throne, assessing the most recent environmental issue Genovia has to deal with, I'm not going to suddenly need to call on my freshman maths skills to solve the problem, am I? No. If anything, I'm going to need to call upon my Biology knowledge, which means I should be spending this time studying THAT, so that my bio partner Kenny doesn't have to pull me along like he always does.

With this in mind, I shut my Algebra notebook and pulled out my Biology one instead. Mr. G'll never notice.

...But that doesn't mean Lana won't.

"What are you doing?" she snapped, showering me with her frangipani smelling hair as she spun around. "This is supposed to be Algebra, not Biology."

"Mind your own business," I whispered, sneaking a look at the front of the classroom where Mr. G was helping Boris unstick his sweater from where it had gotten wedged in the chair.

"You know, Amelia," she continued in that snotty voice of hers. "Instead of school work, you should be concentrating on your people skills. Afterall, it is your responsibility, as the _heir_, to provide your own _heir_, is it not?" She said the word heir with an added sarcasim. She's never really been supportive of my royalty since I rejected her offers to be best friends with her when she first found out.

"What's your point?" I snapped.

"Well, just that statistics have proven that people who haven't gotten their first real boyfriend or girlfriend by the time they're fourteen, will die alone. But you're not worried about little facts like that, are you?" She batted her eyelashes at me.

"Did you know, Lana, that forty seven percent of statistics are made up on the spot?" Ha! Two can play at her game.

"What are you implying, Mia?" she said in a shocked, high pitch. "That I made that fact up? For your sake I wish that were true. I really, really do."

She reached one of her perfectly manicured hands out and gently stroked my own nail-bitten one.

"But don't worry," she said sweetly. "I'm sure there's _someone _out there for you. If you want, I can set you up with Joseph."

I cringed, remembering who Joseph was: the gangly sophmore who hates it when they put corn in the chilli in the caf.

"I think I'll be right, Lana. But thanks for the offer."

She smirked at me once more before turning back around, swishing her hair over my desk once more.

I stared at my biology book for a good five minutes, with nothing sinking in.

She's not right, is she? She can't be. It's not possible. Lana is never right. She lives to torment me.

But...what if she is?

* * *

Grandmere did me no favours later that day when she anounced that there was a ball coming up.

"I assume you have plently of choices for escorts, Amelia. But I ask you to please, _please_, think of me when you cut down the list to just one. The last thing we need is for you to bring someone who will embarrass the family."

Plenty of choices, riiiiight. What fantasy land does she live in? And can I go there?

"Actually, Grandmere, I don't really have anyone I can bring. I'll just go alone."

"Alone?" she barked, as if the word was not in her vocabulary. "Amelia, you cannot possibly go alone, do you not realise how bad that would make us all look? It's not just your reputation on the line here, you know."

"But I don't have anyone to bring," I stated simply.

"Then find someone! It's not rocket science, Amelia! God knows you'll have to find a Prince Consort eventually. I'd hate to think how troubling that will be for everyone."

"Why?" I asked, a little taken aback. I can understand Lana's reluctance to believe that I'll ever find true love, but my own grandmother thinks I'm too repulsive to be loved?

She waved a hand dismissively. "That doesn't matter now. All that matters is that you find someone for this Saturday night."

"This Saturday?" I squeaked. "I didn't know it was so soon, how am I supposed to find someone on that short notice?"

"I don't want to hear about it," she said, waving her hand again. "Let's just get on with today's lesson. Scarf folding!"

Scarf folding? Why can't she ever teach me anything IMPORTANT? Like how to find a Prince Consort or a date to a boring ball?

* * *

With Lana's supposed 'statistic' and Grandmere's ball hanging over my head all week, I've tried really hard to find a date. Afterall, I don't want to die old and lonely, with no children to look after me or to take the throne once I finally croak. Though I suppose I can always go to a sperm bank, but let's hope it doesn't result in that!

But you know, it's not as easy as Grandmere or Lana make it seem. The choices here at AEHS are not exactly the best. Other than He Who Shall Not Be Named (because he is just so perfect and so far out of my league that there's no point even dwelling on him or mentioning his name.) there really isn't anyone I'd WANT to take to the ball.

And with the ball tomorrow night, I'm kind of stressed for time!

I took another long look around the caf at lunchtime on Friday to see if there was anyone I missed. But the only person who looked remotely interested in me was Tina, who was staring back at me when my gaze crossed her way.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Scoping the situation out," I replied. "And let me tell you, my future looks bleak."

"How so?" she asked, taking a look for herself at the oh-so-fine specimens the school has to offer.

"There's just...no one here that's suitable for dating, let alone marrying. Am I destined to be alone forever, Tina?"

She stared at me blankly for a second. "Mia, you're fourteen, not forty. I think there's plenty of time for you to find a husband. There is life outside of Albert Einstein, you know."

"Well I have to find a date for Grandmere's ball tomorrow night. And did you know that statistics have proven that people without partners by the time they're fourteen are more likely to be alone forever? I'm going to be one of those people, Tina. I just know it."

"Relax, Mia. That statistic doesn't sound true to me. You know what you need to do? You need to find a back up."

"A what?"

"A back up. I have one. He's an old family friends son. His name is Jeremy and he's sixteen. You see, we have a pact, that if neither of us are married or in a committed relationship by the time we're thirty, then we'll get married. That way we won't be alone forever."

I considered it for a minute. "That sounds great,Tina. But I don't think it would work for me."

"Why not?"

"Well, not only would this guy be marrying someone he doesn't love, but he'd be marrying into royalty. I don't hold out much hope for someone who loved me to be willing to marry into that, so why would someone who doesn't love me do it? Let's face it, I'll be alone forever. Sebastiano's kids will have to take the crown, and Grandmere will be turning in her grave until the end of time."

I slumped forwards and rested my head pathetically on the table.

Tina didn't know what to do or say, so she just sympathetically patted me on the back.

* * *

As per usual, I knocked on the Moscovitz's door that night for my sleepover with Lilly.

"Thermopolis," Michael greeted when he opened the door. He was looking extra nice tonight; he was wearing the brown shirt that goes so well with his chocolate eyes.

"Hi, Michael!" I squeaked as I stepped past him.

"Lilly's in her room."

"Thanks," I muttered. More than anything I wanted to ask him if he'd marry me if I'm not married by the time I'm thirty, but I bit my tongue and held myself back.

"What's up?" he asked, looking at me strangely. He must have been able to tell that there was something I wanted to say. Maybe it was the fact that I was walking backwards towards Lilly's room because I couldn't tear my eyes from him, and also biting my tongue in such a way that it distorted my mouth. "Is everything ok?"

I nodded and spun around, calling, "Yup, everythings peachy, thanks," over my shoulder.

Smooth, Mia. Real smooth.

I barged into Lilly's room without knocking and quickly shut the door behind me, collapsing against it.

"Ok," Lilly started, looking up from her computer at me. "You're being weird already. What's up? Usually it takes you at least an hour to start being weird."

"Nothing's up," I lied, rubbing my nose with the back of my hand. "Nothing at all. So what are we doing tonight?"

She stared at me for a minute, trying to work out what was wrong. Then she gave up and replied, "Movie night. I got a couple earlier."

"Sounds good. Pizza too?"

"Of course. Pizza's a given."


	2. Chapter 2

To the people who were 'offended' by my joke: GET OVER IT. It wasn't even intended to trick _you _guys. And I don't classify C&J fics as _real _PD fics because they're based on the sucky movie characters. In case you hadn't noticed, the PD section is in the BOOK category. It's not because Clarisse and Joe aren't the main characters. If you wanted to write about Grandmere and Lars hooking up, I'd be all for it. You could even make Michael gay, and I'd probably love it. But movie fics don't belong in the book section. Period.

So get over it. I don't give a shit if you hate me and think I'm childish. That's your problem. I sleep fine at night.

And for the wonderful people who are reading the story, not just the authors note, this is the second and final part.

* * *

After two movies, Lilly and I were sprawled out on the couches talking about Boris.

"You know," I said to her. "Sometimes I don't get how you can be with him. I'm sorry, but I think he's a little weird..."

"You're a little weird," Lilly bit back. She hates when I say something bad about her boyfriend.

"I wasn't finished," I told her, scowling a little. "But he's a nice guy, and at least you're not going to die alone like _some _people."

"And by _some _people you mean...?"

"Well, me," I said, feeling more than a little embarrassed about admitting my loserness.

Instead of coming over to my side of the couch and patting me of the back, or giving me some words of encouragement like Tina did, all Lilly did was laugh at me.

Seriously, she burst out laughing so much that she couldn't control it. She had tears running down her face a minute later.

"It's not funny!" I snapped. "This is my future and I'm being completely serious. I can't even find a date to Grandmere's ball tomorrow night. How am I supposed to find a _life partner_?"

"Mia," she finally said. "Trust me, you're not going to die alone."

"How do you know? Lana told me that statistics have proven that people without boyfriends by the time they're fourteen will die alone!"

"Lana said that? Well you know Lana. She's just trying to cause trouble. Believe me, when the time comes, you'll find someone who's crazy enough to be crazy about you."

"You really think?"

"I know," she said matter of factly, glancing over my shoulder at the door.

I quickly spun around, thinking someone was there. But all I saw was a shadow moving quickly down the hallway. It must have been Pavlov.

"Let's go to bed," Lilly announced, standing up. "How about you make us some hot chocolates and I'll make up your bed."

"Sure," I said, standing up too. "I'll be right in."

When I was waiting for the kettle to boil in the kitchen, Michael walked in.

"What are you making?" he asked, leaning over to inspect what was at the bottom of the mugs in front of me.

"Hot chocolates. Want one?"

"Sure."

He stood there watching me as I poured the water into the mugs. I felt self conscious under his gaze and hoped there wasn't a stray booger hanging from my nose or a tuft of hair that just wouldn't sit down.

I handed him the warm mug and he just stared at me.

"What?" I asked, wiping my nose just in case. Nope, nothing there.

"Ok, I gotta talk to you about something," he said finally, after taking a long sip of his drink. "Sit down."

"Um, ok." I sat down on one side of the table, and he sat at the other, right opposite me.

Uncomfortable, I looked down at my drink and focused on that.

"So, I heard you talking with Lilly before," he said simply.

Shit! So that was HIM in the hallway before, not Pavlov!

I dared myself to look up at him, my mouth a little open in shock and horror. I didn't say anything.

He smiled at my reaction. "I wasn't eavesdropping, I swear. I was just on my way past going to my bedroom when I heard Lilly laughing hysterically. I couldn't help but listen in to see what it was that made her laugh so much. She never laughs like that when I tell her jokes. That's why I quit making jokes."

I still didn't reply. What am I expected to say? All that's going through my head right now is a high pitched scream. One that I would like to voice, but can't.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the fact that I haven't said one word. "Look, all I wanted to say was that I don't think you're going to die alone. You're a wonderful person, any guy would be lucky to be with you."

"Thanks," I finally choked out, finding my tongue. "But sometimes it's hard to stay positive when I can't even find a date to the stupid ball tomorrow night."

"Well," he said, standing up and heading over to the sink with his now empty mug. "If you're having trouble finding a date, I'd be happy to help out. You'd settle for a friend, right? And I already have a tux. What do you say?"

"Sure!" I squeaked again, not believing my luck. And "settling" for a friend? Please. That is so not the case here. Not the friend part, I mean the settling part.

He smiled and started for the door.

"Maybe you can be my back up too," I muttered under my breath, completely wishful thinking.

"What was that?" he asked, turning back around.

My whole face turned beetroot red. He wasn't supposed to hear that!

"Um...nothing?"

"What's a back up?" he asked, leaning against the wooden doorframe and looking intently at me. A tiny smirk played at the edges of his lips.

"Oh, it's just something stupid Tina was telling me about earlier."

"And?"

"Well, she has a back up. If she's not married or in a serious relationship by the time she's thirty, she'll marry a guy called Jeremy. It's stupid really, I was only joking around."

He considered this for a minute while I slowly died inside. I can't believe I just told him all that! He probably thinks I'm the biggest idiot ever. Which, of course, I am.

"All right, Thermopolis, deal."

"Wha--what?" I asked, losing my voice once more. "What are you talking about?"

"What you just said. If you're not married or in a serious relationship with someone by the time you're thirty, I'll marry you."

"You're kidding, aren't you? Why would you want to marry me?"

Especially when he can his pick of wife?

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Do you really want me to make a list of the reasons? We'll be here all night."

"Mia, you really have to stop thinking of yourself in such a negative way. Any guy would love to be with you...and that includes me."

My heart stopped and I struggled to take a deep breath. "Michael, I'll stop thinking negatively of myself when you stop pretending that you want to be with me. It's not funny."

"Didn't I already tell you I don't make jokes?" He took a few steps towards me.

"So if this isn't you joking around, then what is it?" I waited anxiously for his reply, trying to ignore the fact that he was now only a step away from me.

"It's me, and it's you...Mia, it's us...Isn't that what you want?"

Holy crap! Was he smoking something when he was cooped up in his room all night? What is going on?

Before I got the chance to ask him that very question, he took that final step and bent down to kiss me.

Amd when he finally pulled back, leaving me in shock, a voice from the doorway called out, "Told you you wouldn't be dying alone. Now where's my ho cho?"

Hot chocolate? Who cares about hot chocolate when I have a date for tomorrow night, a back up AND a possible boyfriend?

* * *

Flames because of my joke will only be laughed at.


End file.
